


It's Friday, I'm in Love

by bourgeois, rafaelbaseball



Series: Sonny Side Up 'verse [2]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, Fluff, Insecurity, M/M, Multimedia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 06:59:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12475972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bourgeois/pseuds/bourgeois, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rafaelbaseball/pseuds/rafaelbaseball
Summary: Nearly a week passes by before Rafael gets to see Sonny again. On the second Friday they meet, they get drunk again.The third Friday they get together, Sonny invites him to another book signing.The fourth Friday, Rafael realizes he’s made a huge mistake.-Or: The one where Fridays mean Sonny and Rafael fall a little bit more in love with each other. (And then Sonny inadvertently almost ruins it all.)





	It's Friday, I'm in Love

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to give an enormous thanks to all of you who have supported this 'verse and left such unbelievably positive and lovely comments. We appreciate every single one, we are grateful to each and every one of you, and we can only hope that you'll stick with us as we continue this AU journey. 
> 
> To take it a step further, we've turned this into a multimedia work. You can find and hopefully enjoy accompaniments like Instagram posts, magazine articles, and more at the [Sonny Side Up Tumblr.](https://officialsonnysideup.tumblr.com/) Links are scattered throughout the fic but other posts will be added to the Tumblr as "in-betweens" of sorts. Can you tell we're having fun with this?
> 
> I'd also like to give a special shout-out to [damn_antihero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/damn_antihero/pseuds/damn_antihero) whose constant support and ideas we'd be lost without, thank you and so much love to you!
> 
> Without further ado, here is the next part of the Sonny Side Up 'verse. We hope you enjoy it!

Nearly a week passes by before Rafael gets to see Sonny again. 

It’s a little--a _lot_ \--unbelievable that he’d get the chance again at all, really, but after an evening spent half-watching _Golden Girls_ re-runs on Sonny’s couch after the dinner they’d shared, Sonny had seen Rafael off with the promise that he’d call. That’d been after twenty minutes of back and forth over whether or not Rafael should stay the night, since it’d been somewhere close to midnight when he’d finally left, but between the booze and how incredibly _right_ Sonny’s lips had felt against his own while they’d come close to feeling each other up on the couch, Rafael had known his best and only option would be to go home.

He’d never live it down, having to admit to Rita that he’d slept with Sonny Carisi after a dinner won as a prize. 

At least he hadn’t waited long for the phone call. Within this past week, Rafael has finally figured out how to FaceTime _and_ operate Snapchat, two milestones he’d never aspired to reach. Still, the knowing looks from Carmen are worth every single photo Sonny sends of himself with dog ears or barfing rainbows. Rafael had even caught himself wondering what it would be like to take a picture like that of the two of them together, which he’d mistakenly admitted aloud, thus prompting a five minute laughing fit out of Rita. Then Liv. 

In any case, on the second Friday they meet, they get drunk again. They don’t mean to but Sonny makes guava glazed pulled pork tacos and there’s no denying that they’re perfectly paired with more than a couple jalapeno margaritas. Frankly, Rafael couldn’t even say how many they’d each had because he remembers practically collapsing onto Sonny’s couch as their lips frantically worked to find each other and then…

Then… 

Then it gets fuzzy.

When Rafael blinks his eyes open the next morning to soft sunlight streaming through the blinds over a window that definitely isn’t his own, he has a flash of panic. He doesn’t recognize the room at first, the surroundings are unfamiliar and so are the sheets tucked up to his waist. For a brief, horrifying second, Rafael wonders if last night had been a fever dream and he’d ended up going home with some random stranger but when he glances down at himself to find that he’s not only clothed but wearing a faded, well-worn Casa Belvedere shirt and a pair of snug-fitting sweatpants, what relatively clear memories he does still have start coming back to him.

So does the pounding hangover headache and a profound sense of humiliation.

Even more noticeable is that he’s alone in the room, and Rafael tries not to spend too much time wondering whether that’s a good or bad thing. Instead, he takes his time squirming out from under the covers until he’s swaying on his feet so he can take a hesitant peek through the curtain that are just short of sheer. They’re a few floors up, Rafael would guess five or six, and he watches the typical hustle and bustle of city life he’d be a part of himself had he not been here without any sense of envy. Glancing at his watch, he sees that it’s half past eight, which he thinks is probably the latest he’s _ever_ slept in since… well, he can’t remember the last time he’d woken up this late. Rafael carefully turns around with an arm cradling his sensitive stomach, leaving behind the view of the people below and the Hudson beyond in favor of letting his eyes scan over the room. _Sonny’s_ room. He’s in Sonny Carisi’s bedroom, wearing Sonny Carisi’s clothes, but he’s almost certain they hadn’t gotten any more physical than kissing again last night so that alone helps to ease his nerves.

His inspection of the room stops at a photo on the nightstand, one of Sonny and a woman holding a baby in her arms. He recognizes the other two from Instagram and the show: Sonny’s sister and niece. The nerves return. Rafael feels damn near slimy for knowing so much more than what Sonny’s talked to him about so far. So far.

Running a hand through his hair, he sighs, rounding the bed and sitting back down on its edge until he notices the folded piece of paper beside the picture frame that has is name on it. With unabashed curiosity and a twinge of excitement, Rafael reaches for it, momentarily forgetting the headache and nausea as he opens the note to find Sonny’s handwriting.

_Morning! There’s a toothbrush, some Advil, a towel, and change of clothes for you in the bathroom. I’ll start breakfast when I hear you get up. Take your time. I’ll wait :)_

“Jesus,” Rafael murmurs to himself. 

Either Sonny’s truly the most generous accidental host in the city, or-- no, Rafael’s pretty sure there’s some very real accuracy to that.

It takes him the slightest bit longer than usual to get ready but once he’s showered and changed, the nausea has faded and while the headache is still there, it’s at least manageable enough. Rafael slips on the pair of jeans Sonny had left him, both surprised and relieved to find that they fit fairly comfortably, then a plain black t-shirt that smells like… bacon?

No, that smell is wafting in through the cracks of the door and his mouth starts to water. He takes care to fold up his used towel and sleepwear, stacking them on one of the bathroom shelves, then follows his nose out to the kitchen. There, he finds a sight he’s very afraid to admit he’s pictured in his own mind a number of times.

Sonny, in yet another one of those damn denim button ups and a very flattering pair of jeans, has his back to him but Rafael can see the apron tied around his waist and neck. There’s a plate of bacon already prepared on the square, rustic looking cherry wood dining table just on the other side of the kitchen island. The kitchen is open concept, of course, Rafael hadn’t been surprised to see that last weekend and finds a peculiar warmth settling in his chest at seeing Sonny cooking them breakfast in it now. It’s cute, too, that Sonny would wear an apron to make breakfast for an audience of one, and Rafael wonders if it’s preference or force of habit.

Clearing his throat, Rafael takes a few steps forward until he can rest an elbow on the island, leaning his weight on it in a thinly veiled effort to appear casual. So he’d woken up in Sonny Carisi’s bed this morning, no big deal.

_Huge deal!_ Why is it that he can always hear three very distinct female voices ringing in harmony in his head? More importantly, is there a cure?

“Hey, you,” Sonny says, grinning at Rafael over his shoulder as he shifts to show off his expert flip of a piece of battered bread. “I hope you like French toast.”

Before Rafael can even think of a proper answer, Sonny’s plopped the toast onto a plate and once he’s crossed the space between them, he reaches out to place a hand on Rafael’s hip then presses a quick but sweet kiss to Rafael’s lips. Though he’s not entirely sure why, Rafael tenses, and Sonny tilts his head curiously before reluctantly pulling away.

“Sorry, was that too much?” he asks, a crease forming between his brows.

Rafael blinks, wanting to smooth that crease away but barely a second of silence passes between them before Sonny continues, “I just figured, we’ve spent two Fridays making out on my couch so maybe giving you a kiss hello wouldn’t be too out of line. But listen, I completely understand if I had it wrong. I get it, it’s pretty fast, but hell, life moves fast, right? Not that you’re a whim or anything, that’s not what I mean at all, I’m just saying that I like you, and I like kissing you, and you just keep staring at me like you think I’m about to axe murder you or something so I should probably stop talking but the funny thing about that is, _you_ kind of make it hard for me to keep my head straight sometimes so if you want me to stop, you’re going to have to make me stop.”

Rafael makes him stop with a kiss. 

It isn’t long, but it’s tender. It’s sweet, it’s passionate, it speaks to how much Rafael wants to be here, too, even if he’d be just as awful at expressing it in words as Sonny has endearingly proven himself to be just now. 

“Thank you for giving me your spare toothbrush,” Rafael says. It’s not the best follow-up, but it’s all he can come up with right now because when he glances down between them, he finds that their fingers are entangled at their sides and makes no effort to let go.

Sonny blinks at him then shrugs with a sheepish smile. “It wasn’t a spare, actually, I went out and bought it at the bodega a block down while you were sleeping.”

Rafael kisses him again. Breakfast gets a rain check.

\--

The third Friday they get together, Sonny invites him to another book signing.

“You don’t have to pose for cameras or anything,” he says, “even though you’re pretty good at that.”

Rafael scoffs. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve seen you on TV, Mr. ADA Rafael Barba, comma esquire. Mr. Big Man on Campus. Mr. Watch Me Puff Out My Chest Because I’m Better Than You. Mr.--”

“Stop,” Rafael says, rolling his eyes as he rolls over onto his side so he can prop himself up on an elbow and rest his other arm over Sonny’s bare waist. 

They’d had a plan tonight. It’d involved going out for dinner because Rafael had insisted he give Sonny a break on cooking for once (“But I _like_ to cook, and I like to cook for you!”) and visiting one of the nicer Italian places in the neighborhood (“Well, _I’d_ like to treat you and this is the only way I know how!”) that’s known for its excellent cannolis.

Somewhere between a glass of cabernet and slow dancing to [“This Guy’s in Love with You”](https://youtu.be/GWjbUAYcxII) while it played on Sonny’s record player, the prospect of dinner had been abandoned in favor of indulging in each other. Layers of clothing had been dropped unceremoniously to the floor, which had only been acceptable because Rafael had already changed into casual attire, on the way to the bedroom and they’d fallen into bed together without sparing a single thought for the reservations they’d be missing.

Now, lying here pressed against Sonny’s body while they talk in some small way about their future, Rafael has absolutely no regrets. 

“There are about a million other things I can think of doing rather than spending my two free afternoons this weekend watching you get hounded by young girls and their horny parents.” Sonny’s expression morphs from amusement to skepticism but Rafael lifts his chin defiantly. “That’s right. Horny parents. Do you _read_ the comments on your social media platforms?”

“I try not to,” Sonny admits, smirking as he lifts his head to land a kiss against Rafael’s collarbone. “I used to do it but when the show started getting more popular, the comments started getting weirder. Amanda reads them, sometimes she’ll highlight some of the good ones, but I stay away. From what I remember, though, there were a lot of bad egg puns.”

“You know,” Rafael says, his voice growing uncharacteristically demure, “you posted that picture of us having lunch together and there was an entire discussion about who I was. [Hashtag I like this lawyer](https://officialsonnysideup.tumblr.com/post/166721623707/sneak-peek-at-what-to-expect-for-the-next-part-of)? Your fans were losing their hive mind, some of their theories were insulting.” Actually, the vast majority of fans had guessed “secret boyfriend” but that’s a strong phrase that he doesn’t necessarily want to touch right now. “A few people seemed to be asking if I’m a dad? I didn’t get that. Some of them somehow decided I’m just your angry Uncle Rafael and I should seek anger management before I become a bad influence on you. Did you have to post the one that showed me going off on your PA for suggesting I’m not a fair prosecutor?”

Sonny barks a laugh at that, shifting his body so he can pull Rafael on top of him, grinding his hips with a wide grin. “They can get creative, and you look hot in that picture. But forget the PA, does that feel like I think of you as my angry Uncle Rafael?”

“Please don’t tell me that did it for you,” Rafael teases, PA officially forgotten. Sonny has a funny way of making things slip both their minds. His tongue flicks over his lips and he rolls his own hips down, shivering at the moan that sounds from deep within Sonny’s throat. “Please don’t tell me angry Uncle Rafael is a turn on for you.”

“Mm, well, I’m sure Uncle Raf has a gooey inside underneath that tough exterior, but round two’s got the real you’s name written all over it.”

“No, stop, my heart,” Rafael says dryly, but he leans down to kiss Sonny deeply, one hand bracing himself against the headboard while the other glides down the curve of Sonny’s side. Even as he does, his eyes narrow as his mind takes an inconvenient turn to the subject that’d led them here in the first place. He nips playfully at the edge of Sonny’s jaw, nudging his nose against light stubble. “What would I be going as?”

“I’m sorry, what?” 

Sonny’s eyes have already glazed over, which Rafael would otherwise allow himself to be very smug about, but now his curiosity will be insatiable until he gets an answer. He pushes back against the headboard so he’s upright again, now resting both hands on Sonny’s chest.

“To the book signing, what would I be going as? Your friend? Your date?”

Sonny’s hands finds their way to Rafael’s hips, his eyes trailing downward until they’re both looking at how hard he is. Rafael almost feels guilty, but he holds his ground. It’s not something they’ve really discussed: what they are, what this is. The word “boyfriend” doesn’t have to be used, that’s not the issue. Rafael just wants to know. It’s only been three weeks, true, but Sonny treats him like something more than just a guy he’s been seeing for three weeks. At least, it feels like more than that. Rafael isn’t sure if he’s just imagining more meaning behind Sonny taking his hand in public at the movies or bringing him a homemade lunch or making space in his closets for Rafael’s suits on the nights they opt to fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Three weeks is nothing to some people. Rafael isn’t some people. 

“Look,” he continues, “I know I didn’t pick the best time to talk about it, but I overheard a couple of your producers when I went to the studio to meet you for lunch the other day. They’re worried about how it’s going to affect hits if you and I make this work. If we go public.”

“Whoa.” Sonny shakes his head, struggling to lift himself onto his elbows and very suddenly looking more concerned than Rafael had intended to make him. “You shouldn’t have heard that. They shouldn’t have been-- Look, I guess I didn’t really realize you could have a date to a book signing but of course that’s what you’d be going as. And to be honest with you, I kind of already thought we were making this work.”

“So did I,” Rafael agrees, his voice softening. His cheeks are warm, he can feel the flush spreading all the way down to his chest because Sonny’s gaze is intense now, searching. “I just don’t want to get in the way of your success. I don’t like the thought of being a liability.”

“You shouldn’t have heard that,” Sonny says again, firmer this time, his jaw working. “Rafael, hear me on this, okay? You are not a business decision. I’ve built myself a good career here, don’t get me wrong, I don’t take that for granted. But I’m not going to let go of _you_ just to save myself a few small-minded viewers. I’d have to be an idiot.”

“Or a bad egg?”

Sonny groans, letting his head flop back down onto his pillow even as he laughs. “We were having a moment, what’s wrong with you?”

Rafael offers a crooked smile. It’s easier this way, truth be told, deflecting to save them both a long night of heavy discussion. Knowing is enough, hearing Sonny say that is enough. Trusting doesn’t come particularly easily for him, but there are exceptions to every rule. He’s already come around to almost fully accepting that Sonny seems to be the exception to _many_ rules.

“You’re going to whisk it all just for me?”

“Rafael. That’s awful. Seriously, I’m reconsidering everything I just said.”

“What, you don’t like my egg-cellent puns? I thought for sure they’d get me laid.”

“ _Come on_.”

\--

The fourth Friday, Rafael realizes he’s made a huge mistake.

“You need to take a breath,” Rita tells him, holding her hands out in front of her, like she can somehow put a stop to Rafael’s pacing. 

He pauses at the edge of his desk, glancing at her with a scowl, then slaps the magazine he’s been practically crushing in his hand for the last five minutes down hard enough to send his favorite pen rolling down to the floor. It’s a Sonny Side Up pen, one he only uses while he’s in his office. That’s all the more infuriating. “I don’t need a breath,” Rafael snaps, “I need a bottle of scotch.”

The problem is, it’s mid-afternoon and anyway, Rafael hasn’t replenished his office liquor supply because he’s spent most of his evenings the past couple weeks at Sonny’s. The irony isn’t lost on him.

“Have you even talked to Sonny about it? Does he know you saw the article?”

Rafael scoffs. “Does it matter? He said what he said, whether he thought I’d see it or not.”

“I just don’t think you should jump to conclusions, that’s all,” Rita says. She takes note of Rafael’s temporary stillness, though she doesn’t dare mistake it for calm because she can still see how tense he is and how white his knuckles are. Even so, she decides it’s a reasonable enough time to sink into the nearest chair and let out a long sigh. “Maybe his PR team put him up to it. Or maybe they took what he said out of context. There are other explanations, Rafael, you know that just as well as I do. This is you overreacting.”

“This is me wondering why the hell I let myself fall for him in the first place,” Rafael counters, bringing a hand up to rub at his temple. There’s a migraine growing there, he can feel it, which puts his stomach in knots because the last time that’d happened, Sonny had been there to massage his shoulders and press gentle kisses to his jawline until the ache had gone away. Sonny’s not here now, Rita is, and she’s looking at him with a brand of skepticism that only serves to fuel Rafael’s frustration. “Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”

“I’ve made a career out of being on your opposing side,” Rita reminds him, but the glare she gets in response makes her inch forward in her chair so she can lean an elbow against her friend’s desk. “Of course I’m on your side. I just think there has to be more to it than what’s right in front of you.”

“I don’t know,” Rafael says, flipping the magazine back open to the offending page that’d caused this whole mess in the first place. “This is pretty damning.”

At first glance, it’s nothing but a fluff piece accompanied by a great photo showcasing Sonny in the studio kitchen, mixing a bowl of something or other while grinning brightly and showing off his dimples, along with a few other stunning shots to go with the spread. In fact, Rafael had found himself staring so fondly at the photo that he hadn’t even noticed the quote pulled from the article as a caption for almost a full minute.

[ **“YouTube cooking sensation Sonny Carisi: “I’m SINGLE and LOVING IT!** ](https://officialsonnysideup.tumblr.com/post/166734450892/celebrity-chef-bestselling-author-gushing-uncle)

He feels his stomach drop at the sight of the words all over again, hating the urge he has to fight to keep his eyes from watering because he’s so _angry_. That’s what this is, Rafael decides, pure anger. There’s a bit of disappointment sprinkled somewhere in there, too. Maybe there’s a little bit of heartbreak. He’s not willing to admit that, though. How absurd would that sound? 

“I’ve been dating a celebrity YouTube chef for four weeks and all I got was this lousy heartbreak.”

Rita rolls her eyes. “What, are you planning to put that on a t-shirt? It’s a mouthful. No pun intended.”

Rafael hadn’t even meant to say it out loud.

“I should talk to him,” he says softly, glancing down at the phone that’s lying face down on his desk. Sonny had texted him earlier, not long after Rafael had seen the article, but he hasn’t texted back yet. Now, he isn’t quite sure what to say.

“Did some of my logic and rationality actually make it through to you?” Rita asks, feigning shock. “I can hardly believe it.”

The look Rafael gives her, both pleading and admittedly a bit pathetic, earns her sympathy.

“Talk to him,” she agrees, nodding toward Rafael’s phone. “Let him explain. If it turns out he’s just that much of an asshole, you tell me and I’ll kick his ass.”

“And I’ll bail you out for doing it,” Rafael tells her, managing a genuine smile. 

The smile fades when he unlocks his phone, pulling up his texts so he can type a quick _we need to talk_ in response to Sonny’s _hey, gorgeous_. It hurts to think that all of this might be over in a matter of hours, that the past few weeks might have meant nothing to Sonny while it’d meant everything to Rafael. When he turns it all over in his mind, it doesn’t quite add up, not when he pictures the way Sonny looks at him when they’re together or the way Sonny traces patterns overs his spine when they lie in bed together or the way--

His text alert sounds.

_Okay._  
I can meet you for lunch in front of the studio in an hour.  
Is everything okay? 

Rita watches him closely, until nearly half a minute of silence goes by and Rafael doesn’t even look up from his phone. “Rafael?”

_Raf?_

He replies to Sonny with nothing but a promise to see him soon then forces himself to look back up at Rita. “It’s fine. We’ll talk and everything will be fine.”

Rafael only wishes he could convince himself of that.

\--

When Rafael approaches the studio, Sonny is already outside, pacing with his hands in his pockets and looking restless. Rafael wonders if he’s the reason for that but ignores the pang of guilt because if this going to end, he needs it to be done sooner rather than later. He can’t spend an entire lunch date imagining all the different ways Sonny might break it to him that they can’t actually be together.

But Sonny looks great in his soft gray hoodie and jeans and when he finally catches sight of Rafael, his expression brights for just a split second before it becomes guarded. “Hey,” he says, reaching out to grab Rafael’s hand and squeezing tightly. Like it’s a lifeline, Rafael thinks, like he doesn’t want to let go. God, he hopes he’d overreacted or read the article wrong or _anything_ , anything to keep this going.

“Are you okay?” Sonny asks. “What’s wrong?”

“How do you know something’s wrong?”

“Well, your text said, ‘we need to talk,’ and I don’t think that’s usually associated with anything good. Then you didn’t really answer my question when I asked if everything was okay.” Sonny bites down on his lip nervously, searching Rafael’s eyes for a hint. “Talk to me, what’s going on?”

Just come right out with it, Rafael thinks. Like a band-aid, get it over with to minimize the pain. 

“I saw the article.”

“The article,” Sonny repeats, narrowing his eyes, though his expression remains relatively blank. “Article, article. Okay, I’m honestly coming up empty so I’m going to need you to be a little more specific.”

“The one in _Elite_ ,” Rafael says, practically huffing as he slips his hand out of Sonny’s. The touch is too much, too warm, already too familiar for the short period of time they’ve spent together. He’s never welcomed anyone into his life as quickly and intimately as he has Sonny Carisi, and he remembers now exactly why that is. The fact that Sonny’s playing dumb doesn’t help. “‘Up Close and Personal with Sonny Carisi’? ‘I’m single and loving it’? Ringing any bells?”

Hurt, angry eyes meet bemused ones for a long moment, and Rafael’s ready to throw in the towel right then and there until Sonny throws his head back and _laughs_.

Laughs. Sonny’s laughing at what’s been causing Rafael hours of anguish and doubt. Rafael’s sure he’s been more infuriated than this many times in his life but for the life of him, he can’t recall a single one of those times to keep this in perspective.

“That’s what this is about? Rafael, look at me. Hey, come on, look at me, will ya? I gave that interview over a month ago. Seriously, like, right before we met. They just didn’t print it until now, I forgot all about it or I swear I would’ve said something.”

Speechless, Rafael stares at him slack-jawed and feeling like the biggest fool in the entire damn city. Strike that, make it the entire state. A month-old interview had sent him spiraling and now, he’s humiliated himself in front of his… his guy he’s dating, which isn’t the worst thing to ever happen in the grand scheme of things, but it feels pretty catastrophic in this particular moment.

Sonny seems to recognize well enough that Rafael is at a loss for words. He lifts his hands to cup Rafael’s cheeks, lowering his head so the tips of their noses touch. They’re in public, Rafael wants to say, and it’s not like they haven’t gone out together in public before but they’re not nearly as obviously affectionate; but the extra weight he’s been carrying all afternoon has suddenly lifted off his shoulders, and Rafael can’t seem to find the will to fight this. He doesn’t want to fight it.

“Look, it was true then, what I said,” Sonny tells him. “I wasn’t looking for a relationship. I wasn’t looking for anyone. But then you walked into that bookstore, we went on that dinner date, and all of a sudden, you’re just always on my mind. _Rafael Barba_. When I’m figuring out what to cook for the next show, I think about what you might like. I have to stop myself from spamming my social media feeds with pictures of you. The last time a fan stopped me on the street, they asked who my dream co-chef would be, and I almost said your name because you _are_ the person I’d want next to me.”

Rafael scoffs, though his cheeks are flushing. “I don’t think your producers would be too happy about that.”

“My producers know my foot will be in their asses if they ever tell me how to treat my relationship with you,” Sonny counters. “I meant it when I said you’re not a business decision.”

Right. Sonny had said that. It’d just been difficult for Rafael to let himself believe it.

“People are going to think you’re single now,” Rafael says, and he shouldn’t pout because that’s ridiculous but there it is. He just doesn’t expect Sonny to catch that bottom lip between his teeth then press their lips together for a short but sweet kiss. 

“I could call them again. Make them print a retraction in the next issue. Or I could post about it on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/sonnysideupYT/status/922666453253341185) and [Instagram](https://officialsonnysideup.tumblr.com/post/166736154047/part-two-of-the-sonny-side-up-verse-now-posted), say that if they asked me the same question again now, I’d tell them I’ve got a smartass, sharp-dressed Manhattan D.A. boyfriend who makes my day better just by existing in it.”

It’s the sweetest thing anyone’s said to him. Naturally, Rafael rolls his eyes, never find the fact that he’s melting inside. “Okay, I know that our whole story is almost straight out of a romantic comedy, but nobody’s asking you to star in one. Tone it down, Julia Roberts.” He pauses, bouncing just slightly on his heels. “You said ‘boyfriend.’”

“I did. I said that.”

“What if I said it, too? What if I wrote a twitter and told the world Sonny Carisi’s my boyfriend?”

“You don’t know how to use Twitter,” Sonny gently reminds him, brushing down a few strands of Rafael’s hair that have fallen out of place thanks to the breeze. “But if you did, I’d be happy about it. I think it’s time, if you’re ready for it. Every day, it gets harder and harder not to share how much I care about you with the rest of the world, but it can be a lot of pressure.”

“Wait, you think hundreds of thousands of fans wanting my head for stealing their celebrity chef crush is a lot of pressure?” Rafael grins, lifting an eyebrow then casually shrugging a shoulder. “They can come for me. Just don’t read the comments, right?”

Sonny laughs again. Rafael wonders if a month is too soon to realize he’s in love.

“Exactly,” Sonny agrees. “It’s you and me, Raf. Nobody else’s opinion is ever going to matter.”

**Author's Note:**

> Your comments mean the world to us! Let us know what you think and if there's anything in particular in the SSU 'verse you'd like to see. We might just try to work it in to our next parts!


End file.
